Friday, June 6, Sainte-Mère-Église, FR

D-Day +70 years

We replaced the bicycles with a motor scooter. We buzzed (like a hive of bees) to Sainte-Mère-Église, travelling only about twice as fast as we did peddling. The highest speed was around 30 mph (50 km). Dennis commented that the motorbike was giving it its all to climb the hills, but so was I the day before.

The weather was perfect with clear skies and temps in the mid 70s, though it was a bit windy. The locales were all dressed in summer outfits and getting sun-burned. 20140606_164156 D-day celebrations

In town, about 20, 000 people (perhaps more) filled the streets. All ages and nationalities. There was a sense of expectancy and excitement. Around the square there were perhaps twenty each beer and sausage pavilions, as well as ice cream and crepes vendors, souvenirs stands, and recruiters for the French military.

From the band stand the politicians droned on and the men’s choir sang an occasional song, either nationalistic or from the 40s. The acoustics were terrible. We stood in line for about an hour to buy a sausage sandwich for Dennis, and then sat in the shade for him to eat it. Sitting near us was a family from Normandy dressed in military garb. The little girl was darling. Many people photographed that family, and the boy was very willing to pose.

At 5 PM there was a fly-over with the C47s and the parade started. There were 1200 Americans marching in the band, mostly ROTC and high school bands, some carrying photos of relatives. Several returning vets paraded in military vehicles or were pushed in wheel chairs. You can see how happy he was. This morning the paper reported that a British veteran was found and returned to his nursing home; he was bound for Normandy and the celebrations–many were here in spirit if not in body.

Later that evening there were more celebrations and fireworks, but we left after the parade.

Wednesday, June 4, 2014 La Haye-du-Puits

We arrived in La Haye-du-Puits around 5:30 P.M and said goodbye to our friends who had a two-hour ride back to Brittany. Hopefully they will visit us in Sarasota some day so we can treat them as royally as they have done us.

The store fronts are decorated for the commemorations and there is a festive air in town, and a lot of foreigners in the cafés and eateries. People do not want to forget.

The bike shop was closed by the time we got there, but the Tourist Office was open and they gave us the bus schedules. It takes two buses to get to Sainte-Mère-Église from here and the schedules do not coincide. We missed the 7:33 bus that connected with the one we wanted. Instead we took the early afternoon bus and hitched to Sainte-Mère-Église.

The town was filled with people reenacting the liberation. There were Jeeps, trucks, uniforms, and women dressed in the 40s style, even wearing pancake makeup. There are a lot of American GIs. We spoke with Airborne men who will be jumping on Sunday using the old chutes and jumping from C47s. They were thrilled to have the opportunity to use the traditional chutes.

Some of the veteran’s of D-Day have returned. Ninety-three year old Jim “Peewee” Martin from the 101st Airborne, parachuted into the same area as he did 70 years ago from a C47, the same kind of plane used back then,. He said, “It didn’t compare because there wasn’t anybody shooting at me today.”

We spoke with the 91 year-old H. Daniels from the 82nd 507th. He seemed to be enjoying returning to Normandy, especially in these happier times.

In town, I inquired at the Tourist Office if the buses were operating on time and from the usual place–there was only one bus that would make the connection back to La Haye-du-Puits. Yes, as usual was the reply. We stood at the bus stop for about 45 minutes when a local told us the bus had been rerouted. Fortunately the bus was running late and we were able to catch the one at the transfer.

Back at La Haye-du-Puits, we contacted the bike rental place and made arrangements for the next three days. Hopefully the rain and wind and cold will dissipate.

August 25: Sainte-Mère-Église

Except for the church bells tolling most of the day, there isn’t much going on in Sainte-Mère-Église on Sundays. Of course, there are the walking tour, restaurants, and trinket and bead shops, but no places of interest within walking distance that we had not already seen, and no buses to get to the sites that are further away.

At the tourist shop, we were surprised to find books not sold at the bookstore. More amazingly, we found photos of Dennis’ father and leads to more information. Dennis was as thrilled as a kid at Christmas and bubbled with excitement.

We visited the church where there are two stain-glass windows honoring the parachutists of the 82nd Airborne. The picture on the right depicts Saint Michael and the insignia of various Allied military units that fought in or near the village.

It is remarkable how the people of Sainte-Mère-Église continue to commemorate those that liberated them that night of June 5, 1944 and the days following. It also honors the civilians who died at that time. Next year will be the 70th anniversary.

Below is the tree where Dennis’ father’s parachute was hung up. As bullets whizzed by, he cut the ropes to the chute–and part of his thumb in haste–fell about 30 feet, and then ran off to join other members of his team. Once gathered together, some came back to liberate the town and others went to capture a Bridge at La Fiere, a marsh three kilometers away.

August 24: Sainte-Mère-Église

We went to the Sainte-Mère-Église town hall and were lucky enough to have an interview with the mayor, Marc LeFevre. Dennis thanked him for what his predecessor did to honor Ernest R. Blanchard’s 70 birthday–sending a letter thanking him for his heroic actions on June 5, 1944, a medallion of the city, and telephoning him on the actual birth date. Unfortunately, his dad never saw the accolades or received the phone call: he died three days too soon.

The mayor was very receptive and promised to contact an acquaintance of his who might be able to help Dennis with more information about his father’s “longest day.”

His office gave Dennis six commemorative photos, though not of his father.

As we were heading to the Parachutists Memorial, we passed the house pictured above. It commemorates a parachutist, but one not on the walking tour list. As were we trying to determine who it might represent, a gentleman stopped to give us information. It turns out that Philipe R. Nekrassoff (right with Dennis left) is an historian, writer, and owner of the house we were admiring. He immediately knew Dennis’ dad’s story and might have a photo of him, though from 1960. He will search his records and forward the info to Dennis. What a coincidence. As we were departing, he gifted us with a signed copy of his book: Magneville: Ce Jour Là …6 Juin 1944.

We walked five miles round trip to the memorial. On the way, I noticed that the architecture here is not very different from England’s–stone buildings, tile ceilings, similar chimneys. If it were not for the different crops in the fields, corn rather than oats, I would think I were still in England.

Unlike England, the French drive on the right, have a smaller breakfast, and seem a little more relaxed, not so much in a hurry, except when they are driving.

August 23: Sainte-Mère-Église

Cherbourg is a seaside resort town, replete with eateries, cafes, shops, and high prices. I am learning French names for shops (bakery, pastry, meat store, etc) as well a menu items. Too bad we are not staying longer in France; I would to love sample all the deliciously presented food. Or perhaps its a good idea we are not here too long–I’ve already put on too much weight. I went to the pharmacy to weigh myself, but it did not have a scale; I guess I don’t have to worry about it this way.

On our one-hour bus trip from Cherboug to Sainte-Mère-Église, we had a discussion with Nisar Mohmand. He is 24-year-old gentleman from Afghanistan who has has been living in France for three years, working as a welder. He was very interesting and kind, offering us lodging if we should need it. Many thanks, Nisar.

The tourist office in Sainte-Mère-Église helped us locate a B & B, and gave us a walking-tour map of the city. We visited the Airborne Museum (where I learned that Sainte-Mère-Église was the first liberated village in France), looked at the monuments and memorials around the city, and found Dennis’ father ‘s name on one, though the name is incorrect. Pvt. Ernest R. Blanchard is commemorated as Pvt. R. Blanchard.

Dennis is moved by being here, so close to the events faced by his dad on June 5, 1944. He regrets not having come here with his father, who would have had comments on everything.

Tomorrow we will visit more sites, select a guided tour of all the D-Day beaches for Sunday, and try to see the mayor who can perhaps direct us to more information about his dad and the tree he landed in.